Two Sleepy People
by JillSwinburne
Summary: Sequal to Thanks For The Memory. Mac and Stella spend a quiet moment watching the sun come up. SMACKED.


**Hey there folks, this is the sequal to Thanks For The Memory that I promised you all so I guess you should really read that one first to try and understand what's going on... go on, you know you want to, it's not long ;)**

**This will probably also be my last offering for a while, there's a lot of original stuff I should really be getting on with, but I'll still be lurking around and posting occasionally and have no fear, I will be back :D**

**Anyhoo, please enjoy this and I'll see you around some time.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Mac, Stella or the song. The last two don't bother me so much ;)**

**Jill xx**

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__Here we are, out of cigarettes_

_Holding hands and yawning, see how late it gets._

_Two sleepy people by dawn's early light_

_And too much in love to say goodnight._

It was New Years day and dawn was already beginning to rise over the city. But the little house in the suburbs was dark and quiet, until the slamming of cab doors announced that the occupants had once more returned.

"Happy New Year!" called a woman's voice from the sidewalk and the cab horn tooted pleasantly in reply.

There was the sound of footsteps and voices coming up the pathway, bickering softly.

"I'm just saying, I don't know why you wouldn't let me drive there."

"It's New Year! I just wanted you to relax and have some fun."

"I can have fun without drinking."

"Yes, but you can't drive without your glasses and you left them in your office."

"You hid them!"

"Why would I do a thing like that?"

Keys jingled outside the door as someone unlocked it.

"Because you like to annoy me."

The door opened, letting pale light into the hallway along with two dark figures.

"Not annoy," said the female figure, leaning into the man, "tease."

The man gave a low chuckle.

"The teasing I can just about live with," he murmured, leaning in to steal a kiss before he reached out and switched the light on.

In the sudden brightness the two figures were revealed; a man in a dark suit and slightly rumpled cream shirt that had probably looked fresher when he'd left the house the evening before and a woman in pink party dress, winter coat over her shoulders.

"One more," she whispered as he kicked the door closed, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him again.

They stood like that in the hallway for a while until he noticed her fighting a yawn.

"Come on," he said gently. "Bed."

"Not tired," she replied, pouting at him.

"Stella, it's almost dawn," he complained, but she only smiled brightly, catching his hand and pulling him towards the dark living-room.

"Watch the sun come up with me," she said.

He gave a sigh and cast a wistful glance up the stairs to where his bed was waiting but gave in and followed her into the living room.

While she opened the drapes of the big picture window to allow the half-light of the waning night into the room he removed his jacket, rolling up his shirt sleeves automatically and undoing a couple of buttons at his throat. He threw himself down in the big easy-chair that faced the window, clicking on the little lamp that sat beside it so that its soft glow filled the room with warm light.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms and allowing her to slide into the chair with him. There was just enough room for her to squeeze down the side, her legs over his lap, his arms about her waist and her head on his shoulder.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Always," she replied, twisting slightly to plant a kiss on his cheek.

_Here we are, in the cosy chair_

_Picking on a wishbone, from the Frigidaire._

_Two sleepy people with nothing to say_

_And too much in love to break away._

They had been to another one of the Messer's, by now annual, New Years Eve parties; the significance of the date not lost on either of them. Mac supposed that was why Stella had wanted to stay up.

It had been two years since his goddaughter Lucy had effectively set them up; their first face to face meeting since the divorce. Mac had always been very fond of Lucy but despite his best efforts she seemed to have inherited her parents flare for deviousness and invention which she had used to full affect to reignite the spark between her estranged aunt and uncle.

Stella had told him later about the phone-call she'd received the next day from Lindsay.

"Is everything alright?" she'd asked the clearly troubled younger woman on the other end of the line.

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. It's just that I didn't see you leave last night and I just wanted to make sure you got home alright."

"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry I didn't say goodbye I was a little…"

"Of course, well yes I… Look Lucy said that she saw, um well."

"Spit it out Lindsay," she's said, knowing full well what her friend was about to say.

"Well, she said she saw you leave with Mac."

"Yes."

"You did leave with Mac?"

Lindsay's shock was clearly audible.

"Yes, he gave me a ride home."

"And?"

"And what?"  
"And is he still there?" Lindsay asked, moving from concern to excitement without batting an eyelid. Stella couldn't help but laugh.

"No. He gave me a ride and then he went home."

"Oh," said the younger woman, obviously disappointed.

Stella sighed inwardly, not really believing she was about to tell someone this.

"But I asked him to have dinner with me some time," she said, her words coming out in a rush.

Lindsay had squealed down the line and Stella had had to make her promise not to repeat her story to anyone, although judging by the text message Lucy sent her about an hour later Lindsay was unable to keep secrets from her daughter.

Mac had laughed when she'd told him about it.

"What did the message say?" he'd asked in curiosity.

"Way to go Aunt Stell!"

He'd laughed again. Lucy could be very like her mother at times.

Two years. Mac gave Stella a little squeeze as he stared out of the window, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"What was that for?" she asked, turning to raise her eyebrows at him.

"No reason," he murmured.

When she continued to stare at him he gave her a little pinch on the hip.

"Watch your sunrise," he scolded lightly and she smirked at him, snuggling back against him a little more.

_Do you remember the nights we used to linger in the hall?_

_Your father didn't like me at all._

_Remember the reason that we married in the fall?_

_To rent this little nest and get a bit of rest._

Technically it was Stella's house. It was her name on the deeds and the bills were still made out to Stella Bonasera.

"You know we could get a place together," she had offered but he'd shaken his head.

"I like it here," he told her.

He paid her rent which went towards the various bills.

"At least this way it's easier if you decide to kick me out," he'd joked and she'd smiled.

She couldn't kick Mac Taylor out, she never could. Even when things had gone wrong before, she'd kicked herself out of their apartment. She couldn't even think about asking him to leave and she knew she couldn't do it now even if she wanted to.

The decision for him to move in had come from her. Just one day, out of the blue she had found herself asking him.

She'd thought for a minute that he would say no, it was too soon, he wasn't ready. But he'd surprised her by agreeing almost instantly. They'd started shifting some of his stuff that very afternoon.

That night she'd found herself wrapped in his arms, warm with the knowledge that this was no longer simply _her _bed but _theirs_ and that Mac was no longer a mere visitor in her home but part of it.

"Is this too easy?" she'd asked him, her eyes on the ceiling.

"What makes you say that?" he'd wondered.

"It all felt like such hard work last time."

"Practice makes perfect."

"We're not perfect Mac."

"I know, but we're not the people we were last time around, maybe that helps."

She'd nodded, rolling over to look him in the eye.

"I love you," she told him and he smiled.

"I love you too."

She'd given him the small box-room at the end of the landing to use as an office when he wasn't at work. He'd been retired from active duty for about three years now but had taken a post as instructor at the academy where he was reportedly a big hit.

"I wish they guys had the academy had been like Mac when I was there," Danny had commented once.

"I wish they had too," replied Mac. "Maybe then I wouldn't have had to keep you on such a short leash for so long."

"Hey!" exclaimed Danny but he only received a smirk in response.

"Yeh, yeh very funny Taylor," he muttered while his wife and daughter laughed openly at him.

But while Mac's office at the academy was as spotless and organised as his office in the lab had been, the one in Stella's house was quite the opposite. There were more pictures of Stella in that one room than in the rest of the entire house. There were pictures of Lucy too and the desk was more likely to be covered in Christmas card lists and sheets of music than anything even vaguely resembling work.

"It's meant to be an office, not a dumping ground," Stella was fond of saying.

"Just be thankful it's contained in that one room," he told her.

"When did you get so damn messy?" she asked in disbelief.

"After you left," he replied sheepishly and then he caught her eye. "I was trying to make up for your absence."

Stella only glared at him, although she had to admit that she was not the tidiest of people even now and it was usually Mac who did the lions-share of the housework.

"My domestic god," she called him jokingly to which he would only roll his eyes.

"Don't worry," she told him teasingly, "I'll ritually sacrifice something in your honour later tonight."

"I don't suppose you could make it a nubile young virgin could you?" he replied.

"I'm afraid we're fresh out of virgins oh lord of the starched collars, will a game old bird suffice?"

"As long as she's game," he said, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively which earned him a kiss and an admonishment to finish the ironing.

_Well, here we are, just about the same_

_Poky little fella, drowsy little dame._

_Two sleepy people by dawn's early light_

_And too much in love to say goodnight._

Across town Lindsay dropped a bag full of trash and sighed at her husband.

"I hate tidying," she said. "Let's just move."

Danny only laughed.

"Come on, we'll finish up in the morning."

"This is the morning Danny."

He shrugged.

"Later in the morning then," he said and Lindsay was too tired to argue any more.

"They looked good didn't they?" she said quietly.

Danny didn't even have to ask who she was talking about.

"It's been two years Linds," he reminded her.

"How long did it take to get them together in the first place?" she said.

Danny could only shrug once more. To tell the truth he'd been sceptical about the possibility of Mac and Stella getting back together; they were just too damn stubborn in his opinion. If he was honest with himself he knew it was because he didn't want to see either of them hurt again if it didn't work out.

He remembered when Stella had left last time. Mac had been a basket case. He'd closed up completely, going back to that morose, buttoned up silent man who had hired him all those years ago, but worse if that were possible. He'd channelled everything into his work, barely leaving the lab except to process a scene or collar a suspect. He'd even started wearing a tie again.

Outside of the lab it seemed like the only thing that kept him going was Lucy. His enduring devotion to his goddaughter during the divorce had become the one humanising element of his life. As time went by Lucy was able to slowly bring him back out of his shell once more and for that Danny was thankful to his daughter. He didn't really know what she'd done to make Mac even semi-personable again but whatever it was it had saved all of them from an eternity of masochistic despotism.

Stella hadn't been as bad, but then she had always been much stronger emotionally than Mac. Her students at the university had helped her, just by being their usual chaotic selves. Besides that she had kept in close contact with Lindsay, the two meeting for coffee at least once a week, allowing the older woman to vent and, occasionally, to cry.

But time had moved on and Mac and Stella's dependence on the Messers for support had waned until it became unusual for them to do more than call in once a month or so, especially after Mac left the lab. Lucy's inviting them both to the New Years party two years ago had been a big risk but, to everyone's relief, one that had been worth taking.

Danny doubted that anyone but Lucy could have gotten the two of them together again. He hadn't believed Lindsay at first when she'd told him about her conversation with Stella the day after the party.

"Are you sure she wasn't talkin' about someone else?" he'd asked but Lindsay had only thumped him on the arm.

"Of course I'm sure!" she exclaimed. "Mac drover her home and she asked him to come to dinner one night."

"Even so, it doesn't mean they're getting' back together."

"Don't be such a pessimist," his daughter had told him with a knowing smirk. "I wouldn't have invited them if I didn't know it would work out."

And she had been right. Danny was glad, for them, and for Lucy. She was extremely fond of her aunt and uncle; despite the help she'd been to Mac, Danny knew that she'd been pretty cut-up by their split. He didn't like to think about how upset she would have been if her little scheme hadn't paid off.

"They looked good," he said, pulling Lindsay in for a hug.

_Here we are, gee, don't we look a mess?_

_Lipstick on my collar and wrinkles in your dress._

_Two sleepy people by dawn's early light_

_And too much in love to say goodnight._

The living room was growing brighter as the sun began to dominate the skyline. Mac reached out and switched the lamp off, his hand coming to rest on Stella's hair, stroking it as she shifted slightly beside him and Mac could feel his hip going slightly numb from the pressure of having her squeezed up against him.

It occurred to him that there would be more room in this chair for them if Stella was still the same size she had been when he first met her. Not that she was fat by any means, but age had added a few pounds to her slim frame. Actually Mac liked it, she looked curvier, cuddlier.

In other respects age had been unnaturally kind to her. There were a few extra wrinkles and lines here and there but she still managed to look several years younger than her actual age. The only giveaway was her hair. Grey had finally begun to take hold of her thick nest of curls but she refused to dye it.

"I think I've earned them," she would tell him with a wink.

Mac smiled to himself as he stroked his fingers through the iron grey strands. His own hair had started to turn years ago and he would alternately blame Stella or Lucy in a joking tone.

"Nothing to do with you being old then?" Stella would reply, receiving a playful swat in reply.

Time had not been quite so kind to him. A little over a year ago he'd been obliged to give in and get the glasses he'd been needing for longer than he cared to admit to. A lifetime of squinting into the sun and peering at evidence had left him a little short sighted these days. But he must have developed a vain streak because he hated wearing the damn things.

"Why?" Stella would ask. "I think they make you look sexy."

"Stella."

"What? I bet all your trainees think so too."

"Shut up."

That reminded him, his glasses were still in his office at the academy. He hadn't been planning on going in that day but he supposed he'd better.

"You're muttering to yourself," Stella informed him and he kissed her on the temple.

"Just reminding myself to go pick up my glasses."

"Oh."

"What?"

Stella bit her lip and peeped up at him.

"Actually," she murmured and paused to smile at him sweetly.

"You did steal them!" he accused and she gave a little shrug, turning into him and running a hand down his chest.

"I was going to get you drunk and seduce you," she informed him softly.

Mac smiled, pulling her up onto his lap properly.

"What stopped you?" he breathed against her cheek and she grinned at him.

"I got sentimental," she said and kissed him lightly against his lips.

_Here we are, crazy in the head._

_Gee your eyes are pretty, even when they're red._

_Two sleepy people who know very well_

_They're too much in love to break the spell._

Stella's nose brushed lightly against his, giving him an Eskimo kiss. His hand came up to enclose the one against his chest, her left one. The one with the wedding ring on it.

They weren't married any more, had no plans to do so again, although if he asked she wouldn't say no; but she had taken to wearing her ring again as a kind of symbol. She had never really taken it off, retaining it on a chain around her neck where it had hung the night they'd met again at the party.

She hadn't intended to show him and had been momentarily thrown by the fact that he still wore one, although she had heard of no new woman in his life. She had felt less stupid knowing that he too had never really let go of their life together.

"I couldn't do it again," he'd told her and part of her had known how he felt.

She had gotten used to putting men out of her life. One of the reasons for her "no men in my place" rule had been than it was easier to move on if there weren't constant reminders lying around. Then again there had never really been any she'd felt were worth hanging on to.

But she'd loved Mac too much to let go properly.

Somehow she'd found herself reminding herself of him; turning down dates with an apologetic smile while her friends only rolled their eyes and told her she needed to get a life.

She remembered his raised eyebrow when he'd noticed the ring back on her finger at breakfast one morning. He hadn't said anything, just caught her hand in his and placed a kiss against the heel of her palm.

"You know," he murmured in her ear, bringing her back to reality, "you don't have to get me drunk to seduce me."

She giggled, smiling as his hand left hers and began to softly stroke his fingertips along her bare leg. She still had amazing legs.

"Getting frisky in your old age?" she asked.

"Second childhood," he told her with a smirk.

"Hawkes score you some Viagra?"

"You know a guy could get tired of the 'old man' schitck you keep throwing me."

"Sorry," she whispered against his lips, soothing his ego with her kisses.

"Mmm, accepted," he mumbled, pulling her closer as she wound her arms around his neck.

They stayed like that on the chair for a few more minutes, trading teasing kisses until Mac pulled back slightly and nodded to the window where daylight was now shining in.

"I thought you were watching this?" he said but she shrugged and kissed him again.

"Sun's up," she told him, "nothing left to watch."

He grinned at her.

"Then you won't mind if I go to bed now?" he asked and she returned the smile.

"Not as long as you take me with you."

_Do you remember the nights we used to cuddle in the car?_

_Watching every last fading star._

_And remember when the doctor said my health was under par?_

_And you my little snooks, were ruining your looks._

"One condition," he said and she looked down at him with a raised eyebrows.

"What?"

"Where are my glasses?"

She laughed.

"Kitchen drawer," she said eventually.

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"Yes."

"Better check then."

But he shook his head.

"Maybe I'll trust you this once."

They kissed again but neither of them really felt like moving just yet.

"Why did you ever marry me?" he asked softly, his forehead resting against hers.

"You asked," she replied. "Why did you ask me?"

"Wanted to know what you'd say."

"There you are then."

He took her hand once more; his fingers rubbing her wedding ring gently.

"I never said I was sorry," he murmured but she reached up and placed a finger on his lips.

"You didn't have to," she told him firmly.

"But I should have."

"It wouldn't have made a difference."

"It would to me."

She stared into his eyes, the eyes she knew so well. She had seen those eyes filled with passion and anger and sorrow and amusement but now they held something she thought might be regret.

"I do love you," he said gently and she smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze.

"I love you too."

They smiled at each other slightly and then Stella shifted, pulling away from him and tugging on his hand.

"Come on," she said, "time to go to bed."

"It's already six o'clock," he told her. "It's a little late to say goodnight don't you think?"

"Then we'll say good morning instead," she told him, standing and pulling him up out of the chair.

He stood a little reluctantly but pulled her tightly into his arms when he was up.

"You finally going to seduce me?" he asked playfully.

"I thought you were tired?" she scolded and he sighed, hugging her and letting his head sag into her shoulder slightly.

"I guess I am."

"Alright, how about this; we go to bed and sleep now and then later I'll cuff you to the bedpost and we can play interrogation?"

She wiggled her eyebrows at him, making him smile.

"I might have to take you up on that," he whispered, kissing her again.

Holding hands they finally made their way up the stairs to bed as the sun began to climb high into the sky over the city, beckoning in a new year; a year that they were more than ready to face together, as they should be.

_Well, here we are, keeping up the pace._

_Letting each tomorrow slap us in the face._

_Two sleepy people by dawn's early light_

_And too much in love to say goodnight._


End file.
